“I like lots of things,” she let him know moving her hips upward to move against his hand. If he wasn’t going to move, she was. She needed the friction. As her body moved underneath his, her mouth moved up to his ear and muttered, “I especially like it when put fuck me - here,” and she used a free hand to touch one the one of his she was moving against, “and here..” she made it slide slightly to accent her arse and then she kissed him to accent her third with an unspoken, ‘and here’.
The early days of their relationship had filled with awkward intimacy. They had moved beyond uncertainty or question. If there was something she didn’t like, she’d learned to tell him. There wasn’t a whole lot that she wasn’t open to trying at least once. “Maybe I need a refresher in precisely what you like,” she told him with a soft groan. “I’m still on the potions.”
She hadn’t taken herself off them. She had thought about it for a while but then she found herself thinking it might be disastrous if in one of their rows he shoved her against the wall and took her or carried her off to his room. They weren’t the most logical when they were at their worst of moods. She liked her plans and she wasn’t about to bugger them up at this point.